


What To Do About Mr. C

by Slow_Burn_Sally



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, M/M, POV Outsider, Therapy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-09
Updated: 2019-07-20
Packaged: 2020-06-25 07:35:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19741120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Slow_Burn_Sally/pseuds/Slow_Burn_Sally
Summary: Aziraphale goes to a therapist to deal with all the drama involved in the Apocawasn't.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into 中文 available: [该拿C先生怎么办才好呢？](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19973794) by [papesse](https://archiveofourown.org/users/papesse/pseuds/papesse)



> There's so much angst and unspoken feelings in this fandom, I thought it might be fun (and relatable) to explore what it would be like for Aziraphale to go to a therapist to talk out his problems involving a certain Antony J. Crowley. So I wrote a fic about it. I hope you like it!

________________________________________________________

Aziraphale sat, a bit awkwardly in the waiting room of Dr. Sofia Murkowski. It was a nice waiting room. With a big, green fern in a large pot in the corner. A fern that seemed to be growing lushly and quite happily without any verbal abuse at all, noted Aziraphale. There were stacks of magazines on the coffee table between two worn and comfy armchairs, interspersed with a few of those plastic backed, metal legged waiting room chairs. Aziraphale sat in the largest of the armchairs, knees primly pressed together, waiting for his very first appointment with a therapist. Dr. Murkowski was a Psychologist who specialized in marital and family counseling. Aziraphale had picked her from a list of similar therapists in the area. He hoped that the problems he was dealing with could be fit into the broad category of “marital and family counseling”. 

It was quite a fervent hope, because things had gotten a bit tense in his “home life” as it were. Crowley was still dealing with some trauma over the whole burned-down-bookshop incident, and they’d had trouble figuring out exactly where they stood with one another after the Apoca-Wasn’t. The demon had been suffering from nightmares and had begun stopping by the shop at strange hours to “check in” on Aziraphale with worry in his eyes. 

As for Aziraphale, he had felt a bit down hearted after the end of the world had been averted. He couldn’t say why. Maybe because the sense of purpose had suddenly withdrawn itself from his life. And then there was Crowley. He now had no rule book, no roadmap for how to relate to the demon. Things had gotten very awkward. Crowley had seemed strange lately. Held back. Cautious around Aziraphale, and that was unusual. 

Maybe if this session went well, he could invite Crowley to come with him next time and talk out his problems. It didn’t seem like something the demon would be OK with, but hey.. You never know right? 

He heard the door down the hall crack open and heard the soft thud of comfy flat shoes coming down the hallway to the waiting room. In a few seconds, a friendly female face poked itself around the doorway to the waiting room and regarded Aziraphale warmly. “Mr. Fell?” She inquired. Aziraphale nodded politely and she beckoned him towards her “I can see you now. Thanks for your patience” Dr. Murkowski commented as she led him back down the short hallway to her office. It too was nicely appointed, with more potted plants and some rather good prints of some very old art on the walls. Aziraphale was ironically impressed at the Raphaelite painting of an angel, shrouded in white clouds, his long fingered hand reaching down to pull another angel up from where he lay, apparently languishing on the ground.  _ How appropriate  _ he thought with a twinge of rye humor. 

“Please have a seat Mr. Fell.” Said Dr. Murkowski as she rounded her desk and sat down. Aziraphale sat in the larger and more plush armchair she had arranged in front of her desk and took a moment to smooth down his lapels and tug his vest into place before regarding her politely and expectantly. 

“Soo” she began. “What brings you here today Mr. Fell? Can I call you.. Zira was it?” she asked politely. “I always prefer to use first names with clients. If that’s OK.”

“Certainly!” Exclaimed Aziraphale warmly. 

“Great!” She replied with a broad smile. “You can call me Sofia if you’d like” 

“Sofia it is” Aziraphale liked her already. She was direct and down to earth. But then again, he was predisposed to like most people, being an angel and all.

“Would you care to tell me a bit about what brings you here today Zira?” Repeated Sofia. She crossed her legs, leaned back in her chair and regarded him with polite attentiveness. 

“Well… um..” started Aziraphale, unsure of exactly where to begin. “There’s been some recent.. I believe you’d call it ‘drama’ in my life”

Sofia made a reassuring noise and waited for him to continue.

“I suppose there’s been quite a bit of family trouble?” Aziraphale continued, a touch uncertainly. “You see I have these… “ he paused, struggling to find the right label to refer to Gabriel, Uriel and the rest. “Cousins?” he finished with a slight uptick to his voice that he hoped she didn’t notice. “And they’ve been rather judgmental.. Of my… lets just say.. Life choices?”

Dr. Murkowski took in Aziraphale’s old fashioned clothing, his prim manners, his tartan bow tie and his carefully messy bleach blond pixie cut and made some swift assumptions. “Hmmm”. She replied. “Family certainly  _ can _ be quite judgmental about those sorts of things. How are they reacting to your … life choices?”

Aziraphale inwardly sighed with relief. At last! An objective observer he could talk to about this whole mess. Crowley was too close to it, and to be quite honest, a lot of his turmoil was wrapped up in how he felt about Crowley, so he couldn’t very well talk to him about these problems. Nor would any of the angels or demons be a wise choice as a confidant. He barely knew Anathema, and she was busy with her own, newly married life post Armageddon-That-Never-Was. This was a relief indeed!

“Well.. they’ve tried to prevent me from spending time with certain people” He continued vaguely. “They’ve said some very disapproving things, and have even..” he gulped nervously “resorted to some minor physical violence.” He saw the alarm in her face, and saw her start to interject, so he quickly amended “I’m not in any sort of danger. The physical stuff is in the past and it wasn’t that bad”

He saw a look of sympathy and worry replace the alarm and was heartened, so he continued “They… well… there’s this… um… this man”  _ Not exactly _ he thought, but what was he to do? Describe Crowley as a fallen angel? A demon? And he was, rather infuriatingly man-shaped. 

“We’ve gotten very close over the…. “ another cautious pause “ _ years? _ ” he settled on a measurement of time humans would be comfortable with. Saw the therapist nod reassuringly and continued. “And well, they don’t .. approve of him. Not in the slightest. But, see, as we’ve gotten very … close… we’ve spent quite a lot of time together, and I don’t, well I don’t want to stop seeing him. And they were, up until a few days ago, rather  _ insisting _ that I stop seeing him.”

He paused to assess what the psychologist might think of this piece of information, and to his mild surprise, she seemed not to be confused or taken aback at all. 

“This man”.. She said cautiously “Are the two of you.. Involved?” She saw her new client flinch a bit at the word, and made a mental note that this was something that might need digging into later. 

“Yes.. and no” replied Aziraphale vaguely, hands twisting in his lap. “I mean, we see one another quite often, and… well, we do enjoy each other’s company. We know each other quite well. But see, his … family doesn’t approve of me either, nor of his choice to spend time with me”. He finished in a dejected voice, his lovely gray green eyes cast down to his cream colored lap. 

“Hmm” remarked Dr. Murkowski thoughtfully. “So, if I’m reading you correctly, you’re telling me that although you’re good friends with this man” Another flinch from her client.. “That there’s no…” she paused again and then took a plunge.. “Romantic involvement?”

“No” responded her client in a tone that definitely sounded disappointed. “Lets just say” he continued “that his family and my family… well, they don’t mix well.”

“Religious differences?” guessed Sofia

“You have NO idea” remarked her client with a roll of his eyes and Sofia felt a small twinge of satisfaction of a well aimed arrow of intuition hitting its mark. It made sense. The homophobia and controlling behavior. Very common among some deeply religious families. It was surprising as her client appeared to be in his late 40s or early 50s, but some families remained very involved and indeed very controlling of their family members well into old age, so… perhaps this was the case.

“Does your family attempt to control other parts of your life Zira?” she asked, hoping to get the strange, soft eyed man to open up further. She liked him, she realized. He was hard not to like, with his genteel manners and antique clothing, his careful voice and sweet eyes. 

“Well, yes” he replied ruefully. “They aren’t fond of my friends either.”

“Have you tried putting up some flexible boundaries?” Asked Sofia, suddenly full of sympathy for her new client. His family members frankly sounded like toxic assholes. She admonished herself silently for thinking something so un-therapeutic. 

“Flexible boundaries?” Asked Aziraphale with a tone of utter uncomprehension.

“Yes, boundaries” Sofia repeated. “Boundaries are the places where what is OK and what is not OK meet. Were you end and others begin. They’re made up of your physical body, but also your physical surroundings and your emotional life. Your property. Your home. The behaviors and actions you allow to happen around you, and what is considered not OK. What you wish to do in your free time with other consenting adults is also well within your personal boundaries. Have you tried telling your family members that their input is not appreciated? Or requesting that they call before they come over so that you can prepare to see them? That sort of thing.”

“Oh” Aziraphale said, stopping to consider her words for a moment. “No, I rather hadn’t done any of that.” He furrowed his brow slightly “It doesn’t feel as if they’d respond well to that.” He couldn’t imagine Gabriel telephoning to say he’d be stopping by… 

“Don’t get me wrong” he continued in a positive tone, “They’ve backed off significantly since… since…” Aziraphale did some creative editing of what he said next “Well, since we had a family reunion and things went…um, lets just say, not as they planned”. 

“Really?” Sofia asked, her tone positive and reassuring. “Can you tell me more about this family reunion?”

Aziraphale took a moment. This would take some fancy footwork. “Hmmm” he began hesitantly. “We have this godson” he continued. “My um.. Special Friend and I” another flinch. “He’s adopted, and my family wanted him to meet his biological father. Who happened to be… on my friend’s side of the family.”

“Wait” Sofia held up a gentle hand, “I’m not sure I follow. You’re um.. Special Friend and you are godparents to a child who’s biological father is related to your Special Friend?” Her mind did some very quick genetic and familial arithmetic and came up against an extra integer she couldn’t fit anywhere.

“Yes, see my friend… to avoid confusion, we’ll call him “C” is that OK?” Sofia nodded swiftly. “Well, C’s … um … step… grandfather” (this was getting confusing even to Aziraphale, but he soldiered on) “gave his son up for adoption to a nice family in Tadfield… and then, when the boy, our godson, turned 11, his biological father wanted to become.. Well a part of his life.” 

Sofia looked quizzical, but supportive. 

“The boy, his name is Adam, he didn’t want anything to do with his biological father, and well, C and I, we stood by him in his decision to reject his biological father, and well, that did NOT go over well with the rest of C’s family”. 

“I imagine it wouldn’t”

“Yes” continued Aziraphale, hopefully now that Dr. Murkowski seemed to adequately grasp the situation. “After the reunion… went down like a lead balloon as it were.. Our families have backed off considerably. And that’s rather nice”

Dr. Murkowski beamed “That *is* good news Zira. How are you feeling about that?”

“Oh, its been.. Strangely something of a mixed bag” Aziraphale said with a note of apprehension to his voice. Dr. Murkowski simply waited patiently for him to continue.

“You see, now that they’ve backed off as it were… well.. I’m just not sure how to behave around C anymore.”

“How so?” prompted Dr. Murkowski, intrigued

“Well, before… when they were watching us like hawks, we were very careful around one another.” Aziraphale’s hand wringing increased somewhat and he cast an anxious glance at Dr. Murkowski. 

_ Interesting _ , she thought.  _ He seems far more nervous about this topic than he was about his overbearing family. _

“We..” continued her strange client “We always knew where those  _ boundaries _ you’re speaking of were. We knew how to behave and what to say. And now… well, now… we’re quite adrift.”

“Ahh” remarked Dr. Murkowski knowingly. “I see”

“You do?” Her client’s voice was so infused with hope that she was momentarily taken aback.  _ My, this is very very important to him _ . “Yes” she continued gently “This is a very common thing. When two people exist within a certain mental and emotional framework, and that frame is deconstructed, it’s very common to feel confused about each other’s new roles. Or in fact confusion about what those roles are at all.” 

“Yes!” exclaimed Aziraphale. “That’s exactly it! Oh you  _ are _ good!” Sofia couldn’t help but return his beaming smile.  _ My, he is lovely isn’t he? _ , she thought to herself. She could see how anyone would love him upon five minutes of talking to him. “I don’t know what my role is now” her client continued, voice filled with a familiar awe. People often sounded this way when making a psychological breakthrough about something of great importance to them. Seeing this happen, helping to bring it about was a big part of why she’d gone into psychology. 

She saw Zira’s face darken suddenly. “What do I do about it?” he asked, suddenly serious, his worried expression returning. 

“Well Zira,” Dr. Murkowski offered gently “That all depends on what you want from the situation, and how you think your Mr. C feels about all this. How  _ do  _ you suppose he feels about it?”

“I’m not sure…” Aziraphale paused thoughtfully. Crowley was always there, ready to spend time with him. He was supportive, friendly, (in his cynical, snappish way), always picked up the phone when Aziraphale called… he was always interested in lunch or a walk in the park. But Aziraphale couldn’t sense anything beyond warm friendship there. “He’s rather hard to read” he finished lamely, looking down at his hands. 

“Have you broached the subject with him?” Asked Sofia tentatively.

“Oh dear lord no!” exclaimed Aziraphale, bringing a finely shaped hand to his throat, eyes wide. “No, that just isn’t done!”

Ahhh. Thought Dr. Murkowski knowingly.  _ Internalized homophobia _ . They’d been told repeatedly that it was sinful and wrong to have these feelings and so they couldn’t admit them to each other. She felt a rush of pity for the lovely man sitting across from her. She’d seen this play out multiple times with other clients. “You do know Zira, that there’s absolutely nothing wrong with the way you feel” she said, leaning forward in her chair to fix him with a warm and supportive gaze. “Your feelings for Mr. C are very valid. More than valid, they’re beautiful”

Her words had an immediate effect. She saw his chest rise and fall with a deep sigh, saw his cheeks flush and was surprised to see tears fill his large, gray-green eyes. “Oh my” he exclaimed softly. “I didn’t know how much hearing that would mean to me”. The tears welled up and spilled down his cheeks. 

Tutting reassuringly, Sofia slid a box of tissues in his direction. “Its OK to cry” she said, reflexively, as men (and quite a few women) who visited her offices often expressed shame or discomfort around crying in front of her in the beginning. Aziraphale gratefully pulled a couple of tissues from the box and dabbed at his damp cheeks and eyes.

“Oh thank you!” he exclaimed softly. “I’ve never heard anyone say anything positive about my feelings before. I’ve always been afraid that they’d… get one of us.. Harmed. It’s so very nice to hear someone say that my feelings are normal.. Are good.” 

“They _ are  _ good” Sofia repeated. “The way you feel about him is the  _ normal  _ and  _ healthy _ part of all this. It’s your  _ family’s  _ behavior that’s wrong Zira”. She was rewarded with a cautious smile from her client and pressed on. “Are you planning on telling him how you feel at some point?”

The look Zira gave her was part hopeful, part fearful. “I’m… I’m not sure really.” He stammered. “I certainly  _ want _ to. But I’m not sure if his feelings would be returned, and I’d hate to mess things up.”

“Well, that would have to be a decision you make for yourself” Sofia offered helpfully. “No one can decide that for you but you. It would perhaps be helpful to make a list of pros and cons about the situation. The good or bad things you foresee happening if you tell him”

“What a good idea!” exclaimed Aziraphale. He was already compiling this list from his many hopes and worries surrounding Crowley.  _ Pro: He’d finally know how Crowley felt. Con: They could both conceivably spend thousands of years languishing in eternal torture, or simply be destroyed completely.  _ “Perhaps I’ll do that when I get home”

He brightened. “In fact, I asked him to meet me here so we could go out to lunch. I’d love to introduce him to you”

Sofia felt her smile returning “I’d really like that. It might also give me a little more insight into your situation” she replied warmly. “Would you mind telling me his name? I can’t very well call him “Mr. C” can I?”

“Oh yes! I suppose that was an unnecessary precaution” admitted Aziraphale. “It’s Crowley. Antony J. Crowley.. These days”. 

_ These days?  _ Wondered Dr. Murkowski, but said nothing. 

As if summoned, Aziraphale could hear the door swing open out in Sofia’s waiting room, could hear Crowley’s black boot heels swagger in. “Oh, I think he’s here now!” he piped, eyes growing all sparkly with anticipation. Sofia could see his love for the other man plainly on his face. He got up nervously and quickly bustled out of the room to go fetch Mr. Antony J. Crowley.  _ This should be interesting  _ thought Sofia expectantly. 

He returned a few seconds later, beaming from ear to ear with his friend in tow. Sofia wasn’t quite prepared for the sight of Mr. Crowley. He sidled into the room, narrow hips swinging, a rock star in tight, black jeans and a slate gray, silk shirt, that clung to his narrow torso in a way that bordered on indecent. His bright red hair, coiffed into fashionable peaks over stylish black sunglasses. 

What had she been expecting exactly? Well, someone like Zira Fell probably. Another sweetly plump gay man with hesitant mannerisms and a bright smile, but the smile Crowley fixed her with was sharp and pointy and devilishly wicked and made her insides get a bit melty.  _ Oh my  _ She thought,  _ I can certainly see why Zira’s so flustered over him.  _ Outwardly, she gave no sign of what the sight of Antony Crowley did to her insides, instead she rose to her feet and extended a warm hand in greeting, fixing him with the friendliest and most professional smile she could manage. “Hello Mr. Crowley” she said brightly “It’s ever so nice to meet you. I’m Dr. Sofia Murkowski.”

“Charmed” Crowley drawled, while clasping her warm hand with his surprisingly soft and cool one and giving it a gentle shake. He then turned to her client “Ready to go angel?” he asked in a soft tone that definitely did NOT sound like a friend talking to another friend. The term of endearment, “angel” was infused with quite a lot of emotional meaning for two tiny syllables. Her sweet client beamed back at him and suddenly Sofia knew that these two loved one another very much. It was so startlingly obvious to her, that she was shocked that Zira couldn’t see it. She smiled broadly with the knowledge that this would likely work out very well for both of them, if they found the courage to speak up to one another that is. 

“Where are you going?” She asked, trying to make casual conversation. 

Mr. Crowley turned his black shades towards her in a startlingly reptilian manner “The Ritz” he said “I have a feeling a good table is about to open up. And this one here just can’t keep away from their crab stuffed mushrooms. Isn’t that right angel?” 

Zira grinned and nodded. “They’re drizzled with butter and broiled and they come with this fantastic, spicy chutney” he beamed, the thought of the food and his joy over being in Crowley’s company combining to make his smile so beautiful that Sofia felt her heart lurch strangely in her chest.  _ What a lovely creature he is _ .

“Come on angel” Crowley tugged at Zira’s sleeve in a familiar and affectionate way.  _ Dear lord, _ Sofia thought  _ however had these two managed to avoid getting together for this long?  _

She seriously had no idea

“Ah yes. Of course. We mustn’t dawdle” Zira leaned forward and warmly grasped both of Sofia’s hands in his own, smiling into her eyes. “Thank you Sofia for all the wonderful advice! You are worth your weight in gold. I’ll have to call you to set up another appointment, and I will certainly write you a glowing review on the interwebs”

“Online” corrected Mr. Crowley with a sigh.. “It was nice to meet you” he nodded politely at Dr. Murkowski and then sauntered from the room. 

“Good luck” Sofia mouthed at Aziraphale silently, giving his hands a squeeze and a reassuring smile. He smiled back and followed the insanely sexy man out of Sofia’s office. 

  
_ Well, _ she thought  _ that was a thing. _


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some folks said they'd like me to continue this story, and so I did. Thank you for the kudos and the comments! Chapter 3 will be on its way eventually

  
She couldn’t say she was surprised when a few days later, Zira had called to set up another appointment. This time, a joint one for he and Antony both. Sofia was uncertain how it would go. She wanted very much to help the two of them find a clear path to what was obviously a very overdue connection of some sort, but she didn’t want to push or meddle. And there were other issues to be addressed probably. Mr. Crowly, despite his casual air, had the wary, avoidant nature of someone who’d seen some things. Perhaps some hidden trauma? Not wanting to put the cart before the horse, she resolved to keep her thoughts away from their situation until the date of the appointment, three days away on a Friday afternoon. Best not to build assumptions or jump to conclusions. Treatment was best done by coming at a situation in a mindful and present manner. Really being there for her clients to truly hear what they were trying to express.

But she was excited by the idea of helping these two incredibly attractive, mysterious and likeable men figure out their problems. She loved a challenge, and there was something going on here that went deeper than the usual the mother or father issues… the insecurities, projections and anxieties that always went along with being human. She was intensely curious about what would happen next. 

And so the day came, and the two men filed their way back into her office and seated themselves, Zira prim and upright, Antony, indecently lounging with a leg cast casually over the arm of his chair. ( _ my _ thought Sofia with an inward, cynical smirk  _ what are we trying to prove? _ ) “Welcome back!” Sofia beamed at them as they settled in. “Mr. Crowley… may I call you Antony?” 

“Actually” he drawled, “I prefer Crowley” and shot his companion a stern glance. Sofia continued without missing a beat, but noted the look and filed it away for later. “Very well then Mr. Crowley” 

“Just Crowley is fine” he interjected again, and she again readjusted her social machinery. “Crowley.. Sure, I’m very glad you’ve decided to join your friend” she noted another of those strange flinches, an abrupt, shy nod of the head, a barely perceptible crinkling of the eyes from a wince, hidden behind dark glasses. “I’ve had a lot of success with…” she quickly abandoned the words _couples_ _therapy_ and settled on “group therapy”. 

“Why don’t we start off today by you telling us a bit about what’s going on with you.” she addressed Crowley encouragingly. 

“Nothing’s really going on..” began Crowley, only to be cut off immediately by Zira’s disapproving tone 

“Oh come now my dear” the other man scolded. “That’s not going to help proceedings”

Sofia held up a gentle hand as a request to interrupt. “Please Zira” she said softly. “I find its best not to interrupt when we’re discussing these matters. Mr. … I mean well, Crowley should have some space to think.”

Zira nodded amiably and sat back further in his chair. He fixed Crowley with a disapproving look, but he remained silent. 

Crowley, returned Zira’s look with an unreadable one (from her perspective) before turning his black tinted gaze back to Sofia. “As I was saying” he began sarcastically “Not much is going on. Ever since the Arma….” he stopped himself before he could finish the word and did a clear redirect “ever since this family reunion Zira’s told you about, things have been really… I don’t know. Boring? Not much happening.” He paused for a moment, looking pensive, then, when he spoke again, his voice was a bit wary. “Though I  _ have _ been having some bad dreams lately”

Zira looked like he was going to speak up again, but quickly quelled the urge with a sheepish look at Sofia and settled back down again. His hand had twitched towards Crowley and then settled itself again on the overstuffed arm of his chair. 

“Nightmares?” prompted Sofia 

“Yes… nightmares. I suppose that’s what you’d call them” Crowley responded, “Sounds so dramatic.” Sofia felt a chuckle bubble up inside that she quickly repressed upon hearing such an ironic complaint from this extremely dramatic individual. 

“What are your nightmares about?” Asked Sofia. “Can you give me some details?”

“Well…” he continued “I suppose they’re about…. Fire”

“Fire?” Prompted Sofia again gently.. “In what way?”

“Well, fire that’s burning…” Crowley continued. He appeared to be struggling with getting the words out. Sofia noticed that his breathing had picked up a bit.  _ Definitely some trauma here _ , she thought with sympathy. “There was a fire” he started afresh. “In the bookshop” his voice when he said those last words, was almost a whisper. 

“A fire in the bookshop?” asked Sofia. “What bookshop? Can you elaborate please Crowley?”

“In Aziraphale’s bookshop” Crowley said.

“Aziraphale?” Sofia asked, “And who is that?”

“Oh.. right” Crowley remarked with a tone of irritation that Sofia immediately picked up on. He turned to Zira

“Really? Why do I have to call you ‘Zira’. Its such a stupid name.”

Sofia was alarmed. Was this a sign of abuse? Maybe she’d misread the lovely vibes coming from these two? But to her relief, she saw the way Zira took Crowley’s words no more seriously than if he’d second guessed a grocery store purchase. 

“Now Crowley dear” Zira scolded gently. “I told you I was going by Zira these days.” He turned to Sofia with the pained facial expression of someone who’s committed a minor social faux pas. “I’m sorry Sophia dear, but Crowley doesn’t ever call me Zira. He prefers my full name, which is Aziraphale.” 

“Or angel” Sofia offered. She almost couldn’t believe she’d let something so presumptuous come out of her mouth, but couldn’t help it for some reason. These two really had an air of the unusual and pleasantly unsettling about them, and it was infectious. 

To her relief, neither man seemed scandalized or uncomfortable. 

“Well, yeah. Of course… angel” said Crowley as if she’d been suggesting that the bright yellow ball that burned high above her office roof should be called ‘the sun’. “I do call him that a lot. Can’t help it. Its rather like calling the guy who works in the kitchen making food at a fancy restaurant ‘chef’ innit?” 

The meaning of this went over Sofia’s head, but Zira,? (Aziraphale? There were lots of names flying around in this session!) seemed strangely scandalized. “Crowley!” he exclaimed in shock. “I thought we discussed this earlier. That we were  _ ‘keeping things simple’ _ for our session today”

Sofia was not an idiot. She knew “keeping things simple” was a sort of personal euphemism for something else, but had no clue what it could be. She chose to ignore for the moment and turned her attention instead to Crowley. Things had gotten a little derailed. “So,” she continued, trying to drag this ship back on course, “You have nightmares about Zir- erm Aziraphale’s bookshop burning?” She honestly hadn’t been aware that Zira even owned a bookshop. 

“Yeah” Crowley repeated offhandedly “I’m running around inside, and everything’s burning, and I can’t find him, and it’s really really…. “ he paused, almost seeming ashamed “scary” he finished with a small frown.

Beside him, Zira was worriedly clutching his hands together in front of his waist and had leaned anxiously towards Crowley. The concern and care on his face was so obvious that Sofia had a mad urge to shout at Crowley “Just look at him! He is SO IN LOVE WITH YOU!” but she shoved that urge down and instead responded supportively “And, Crowley, do you know why the bookshop is on fire? Do you know who started it?”. Maybe if she could focus him on the cause, she could get to the source of the fear. 

“Them” Crowley spat out with clear disgust

“Your in laws?” guessed Sofia

“Yeah.” Crowley replied as if he’d just eaten something sour, face squinched, mouth a sneer of resentment. “My _ in laws _ ” He drew out the word in the most disrespectful and cynical way humanly possible. Sofia’s eyes flicked over to Zira to gauge his reaction. To her relief, she saw nothing but concern and affection on Zira’s face. This told her with one, swift glance that Crowley’s maligning of Zira’s family wasn’t hurting Zira’s feelings. That in fact, he probably agreed with Crowley on the implied horribleness of Crowley’s in laws. 

“And why would they do that?” she probed. “In your dream of course.”

“Oh they’d do it in real life if they thought they could get away with it” declared Crowley confidently.

“Are you saying,” Sofia wanted to tread carefully here “... and I want you to know that you are protected by client confidentiality in this office, so no one but me will ever know,” She added swiftly “that your in laws would kidnap your … um friend and burn down his establishment in real life?” 

“Of course he wasn’t!” Zira cut in again and Sofia gave an inward sigh of frustration. Keeping these two from cross talking was a full time job. “Crowley my dear, what a silly thing to say!”

“Look angel” Crowley had turned to Zira with a jab of his slender pointer finger in the other man’s direction. “I can come with you to a therapy session, but not if you expect me to stick to these ridiculous nicknames and code words to hide what’s actually going on. Take your pick! D’you want me to be honest, or do you want me to go home?” 

Sofia was both a bit taken aback and simultaneously genuinely intrigued by this unfolding of events. What could he mean by “what’s actually going on”? She sent up a silent prayer that it wasn’t a Sopranos type situation. She’d never liked that show, because she’d always pitied Dr. Melfy. Being therapist to a mob boss did NOT rank high on her bucket list. And Crowley definitely had a seedy-underworld type of vibe.. One that was tempered by oodles of insane sex appeal, but still…

She opted to sit this one out and see what the pair would do. 

“Crowley dearest” there was a pleading tone in Zira’s voice, but thankfully it still held the tone of a man, hopelessly frustrated with his friend (partner?) and not the fearful or supplicating tone of an abuse victim. Sofia hoped so anyway. She was a good reader of body language and voice tone, but you never knew. Not with these strange gentlemen anyway. 

“Please dear boy” continued Zira, leaning towards Crowley with a worried crinkle in his brow, hands twisting inside each other’s grasp.. “I’d so hoped we could do this the old fashioned way… you know, where you talked about what’s been bothering you and we didn’t have to bring the whole mess into it.” 

“Yes angel, that would be nice wouldn’t it?” Snapped Crowley bitterly, but with a genuine note of concern and … did she sense pity? to his tone. “I’d love it if we could avoid ‘The Whole Mess’ as you put it. But it will follow us  _ wherever  _ we go. You may  _ think _ we’re safe, that we can have a chance to be… “ here a pained pause as he seemed to struggle with something … “to be happy” he finished as if the words had been pulled out of him. “But *I* for one think its far more prudent to always be looking over my shoulder.  _ Always _ do you hear me?”

_ Oh my  _ thought Sofia. There’s very likely some trauma and maybe some mild PTSD symptoms here. She felt a sudden stab of sympathy for Crowley. Because although she still didn’t have a clue as to what he’d dealt with… psychological abuse? Physical abuse? Watching those he cared about come to harm? God knew there were any number of nasty things people did to each other under the guise of being loving family members. Sofia had experienced a few herself and had seen many many more people suffering from the after affects of these traumas. 

To her surprise, Zira sagged a bit in his chair, as if the tension and anxiety he’d felt before had bled out of him. “Very well dear” he said with soft resignation. We’ll do it your way. But I really like her. I wanted to be able to protect her from this.”

Protect  _ her _ from what?  _ Am I “her”?  _ Sofia’s thoughts suddenly started to race.  _ What the actual fuck was going on here? _

But before she could become truly alarmed, Zira turned to her with the sweetest, kindest smile and snapped his fingers. “None of what you’re about to hear will upset you” he said softly, casually as if asking a close friend to pass the popcorn in a movie theater. “In fact, everything you hear will be interesting, and completely credible, but not alarming. And definitely not something that would have us committed to a mental health institution of some sort for having a delusional condition”

And just like that, her apprehension was gone. Zira had turned back to Crowley with what Sofia could only call a pout. “There, you silly old serpent. I’ve done as you’ve asked, now please tell this lovely woman about what’s been bothering you”

Crowley actually smiled at that. Sofia was pretty sure it was a warm smile.. Hard to tell from behind those dark shades. “Thanks angel” he said with real affection. “I appreciate it.” Then he turned his face back to Sofia

“I am the serpent that first offered Eve the apple back in the Garden of Eden, and he is the angel Aziraphale who guarded the Eastern Gate. We’ve been friends for 6,000 years and we’ve been hanging around on earth for just as long, and we just narrowly averted Armageddon. Now all the angels and all the demons in both heaven and hell could very well come after both of us for ruining their stupid, bloody war, and I can’t stop dreaming that my best friend has been burnt alive in his bookshop. I feel like I’m afraid all the time, and it’s very difficult” He said it all in a steady stream of words. It took Sofia a moment to catch up. She could see Aziraphale (not Zira then, but the angel Aziraphale???) gazing at Crowley with his eyes shining. Proud? Sad? She wasn’t sure. 

“Really?” she heard herself asking, after a pause to digest this for a moment. “ _ The  _ actual serpent from  _ The _ actual Garden?” she was genuinely, pleasantly surprised and interested by this sudden development. Also of note was the fact that she was pretty sure he was telling the truth. And that a small part of her brain was yelling quietly at her that this was ridiculous and that she should probably ask them to leave, but it wasn’t connecting somehow with her amygdala. She didn’t feel any fear. And the voice was growing quieter by the minute.

Without another word, Crowley let his dark glasses slide down his narrow, hawk-like nose and showed her a glimpse of a pair of bright yellow eyes, run through with black slits for pupils.  _ Just like the eyes of a snake  _ she heard her brain suggest absently. 

“Oh my!” she exclaimed with delight. Your eyes are very pretty!” was she drunk? Drugged? She didn’t care, but she knew something was amiss. Didn’t matter. This was very interesting. Like something out of a movie. 

“Aren’t they though?” sighed Aziraphale from his armchair. Crowley blushed. She could swear she could see a very pretty blush making its way across his sharp cheekbones. 

“So… your in laws.. “ Sofia was determined to be a therapist, even under the strangest of circumstances “The one’s you’ve been talking about are actually… angels? Angels right? Because they’re like Aziraphale. And  _ your _ family” She turned to Crowley…”Well, they must be..”

“Demons” supplied Crowley helpfully.

“Demons” she repeated dumbly, but rallied quickly. She was a trained psychotherapist after all. Pretty soon, that training kicked back in and she started turning her curiosity towards Crowley’s PTSD symptoms. “So, you were afraid that Aziraphale’s angelic family had murdered, or abducted him?”

“Well, to be fair” Crowley said. “It could have been my side. Fire is more their doing. Could have been either. I didn’t know for sure. I just knew that he was gone. I couldn’t feel him anymore. And that… that hurt. Very badly.”

“Bye the way” he added casually “this actually happened. The bookshop got burned down and he got discorporated. Its just not the fire that did it. And, as you can see, he’s fine now”. 

He turned to Aziraphale again with a smile. “This WAS a good idea!” he exclaimed. “I didn’t realize how bloody stultifying it was not to be able to talk to anyone but you about these things!”

“So,” pressed Sofia, ever diligent to get to the bottom of her client’s issues. “He, Aziraphale? He was ‘discorporated’? I’m not familiar with that term”

“Oh” blinked Crowley. He’d taken off his dark shades and his yellow eyes were quite hypnotic. “It means that the body he was given to walk about on earth with got … well… destroyed. He, as an ethereal angelic being lived on just fine.. But he couldn’t, well, couldn’t touch anything, or technically be seen by anyone up here.” 

_ Up here? _ thought Sofia with a touch of confusion, until it dawned on her. Ooooh.  _ Up here _ . 

“So, how did the bookshop burn down?” she asked, genuinely very curious at this point. 

“It was burned down because an idiot knocked over a candle. And he actually got discorporated by accidentally stepping into a heavenly transportation portal” 

“Oh.” Sofia decided not to dig further. “Lets get back to your nightmares then” she prompted. “What’s happening in your life because of these bad dreams? Any changes of mood or behavior?” That’s right, she thought. This is just a normal therapy session. Only one where her clients were supernatural religious icons. Whatever. No big deal. 

“I’m not gonna lie. It’s been rather unpleasant” Crowley continued. “Every time I sleep, which is usually every couple of days, I wake up terrified from having another nightmare. Sweating. Heart pounding. The whole nine yards… very classic nightmare experience.. Or so I’m told”. 

“Oh dearest” she heard Aziraphale breath and turned to see the angel, eyes sad and worried, reaching out a tentative hand towards Crowley. It hovered in the air between them, as the angel weren’t sure if it was alright to finish the motion and actually touch the demon. 

Crowley clearly picked up on his companion’s sadness and pity. Sofia thought she saw his angular face soften for a moment when he noticed Aziraphale reaching for him, but then saw the look disappear behind an off handed cynicism again.  _ Well _ , she thought.  _ We have our work cut out for us. Someone has issues with intimacy and commitment.  _

She decided to change tactics. “Have you noticed any changes because of these nightmares Aziraphale?” she asked, turning to face the angel.  _ The angel _ … her mind tried again to make this into a big deal, but found itself slipping away from those thoughts again.

“Oh my yes!” exclaimed Aziraphale. "He’s been calling me at strange hours of the night, which is fine generally because I don’t sleep very often, but he sounds ever so scared. And he’s been stopping in at random times and asking me if I’m OK, which, while its rather nice, is also not like him”

“I stop in all the time!” Crowley complained, shooting a reproving look at Aziraphale. 

“Yes dear, but when you do, you usually don’t follow me around the shop everywhere I go as if you were afraid I’d disappear into thin air”

“Well!” huffed Crowley. “You very well might mightn’t you!?”

“There we are!” Sofia jumped in like a cat pouncing on a mouse. “That is the essence of PTSD right there. The fear that the traumatic thing one has experienced could happen again, at any time, and that a person must be vigilant, even ‘hypervigilant’ so that they can avoid the traumatic event from reoccuring.” 

Both Crowley and Aziraphale looked at her blankly. Crowley was the first to speak. “Alright then. But I’ve seen some things. I lived through the Black Plague, the Spanish Inquisition, two hundred and forty seven different bloody wars, and I fell from heaven for Satan’s sake. Why is it I’m so torn up over Aziraphale being discorporated?”

Sofia took a moment for her brain to process this statement, but rallied admirably. “It could be..” she hazarded a guess, “that all of those other experiences were once removed from you? Not as personal as they could be, but that your …. Friendship with Aziraphale is deeply personal, and so you’re more afraid of losing that?”

The demon’s face immediately went through a quick revolution of expressions. Surprise turned to consternation, turned quickly to a sort of resigned understanding and was just as quickly covered over by that ever present offhanded mask of relaxed, cynical passivity. “Well.” he stated flatly. “I suppose that makes sense… in a way”

“It does” offered Aziraphale gently, in a voice that sounded achingly sad. Sofia had a sudden urge to hug him, but repressed it.  _ Must remain professional _ , she thought. 

Crowley brightened suddenly “But what about the fall!?” he exclaimed, as if finding a missing puzzle piece he’d been looking for. “That was bloody traumatic as you therapists like to say. Bloody horrifying really. And that’s still very unsettling to me, and that has nothing to do with Aziraphale. And that isn’t making me act strange like the nightmares do”

“Isn’t it though?” asked Aziraphale from his adjacent armchair. 

Sofia glanced over at him in surprise. Who was the therapist here after all?

Crowley looked momentarily incredulous “What are you inferring angel? That my fall from heaven is making me act strange?”

“Yes” Aziraphale said simply. His face had grown solemn, and he looked back at Crowley with unblinking hazel eyes. 

“How so??” asked Crowley, still acting as if someone had accused him of cheating at cards. 

“It keeps you away from me” Aziraphale said, and sighed deeply, dropping his gaze. 

_ Oh my _ thought Sofia.  _ Here we go _

“Aziraphale” she prompted, quickly, before the moment could be swept under the rug again by either of them “would you please elaborate? How has Crowley’s … fall … kept him away from you?” She made a mental note to get more details about this falling thing later on, but right now, the more pressing matter was getting to the bottom of what was stopping these two from opening up about themselves and each other. 

Crowley looked desperate to interrupt, spluttering a bit and clearly preparing to say something dismissive, but Sofia silenced him with a polite finger held up in his direction while she kept her attention trained on Aziraphale. 

The angel sighed deeply in a resigned way and brought his eyes back up to fix Crowley with a look that was so sad and so full of longing that Sofia momentarily felt her breath catch in her throat. 

“You talk about it all the time” he began, “your fall. You always seem so casual… ‘ _ I just sauntered vaguely downwards’  _ and all that nonsense, but I know it hurts you deeply. And it keeps you away from me”.

Crowley couldn’t help himself and butted in, incredulous “What are you talking about?? I’m around you all the time!”

Aziraphale let out another sigh. “Yes” he admitted “You are, but you’re not  _ close _ to me. Not ever really. You rarely ever touch me, and you seem to always have to cover up the nice things you do for me with jokes and excuses.”

“I’m a demon. I’m not nice” mumbled Crowley

“See! That’s what I’m talking about!” Aziraphale turned his wide, hazel eyes to Sofia, as if looking for validation. “Everything’s a joke. Everything is a….” He paused, looking for the right word.

“Deflection?” offered Sofia helpfully

“Yes! A deflection! Exclaimed Aziraphale with a shy smile. “That’s exactly it.” He addressed the demon again “I keep trying to show you how much I care, and you keep deflecting me”

“Oh angel, don’t be dramatic” Crowley grumbled. 

“I’m NOT being dramatic!” yelled Aziraphale, very dramatically. 

Sofia decided to step in

“Crowley, do you think there’s any truth to what Aziraphale is saying? That your fall has caused you to put distance between the two of you? And if so, why would that be?” Aziraphale had a familiar look on his face. One that she’d seen reflected on the faces of many a husband or wife in sessions with her when their spouse was asked something that  _ they  _ themselves knew the answer to and were veritably dying inside with the urge to jump in and explain for said spouse. She silenced him with a gentle look and turned her attention back to Crowley.

“Well… “ the demon stuttered, clearly unsure of how to continue. “I don’t know what he means by me not being close to him. Like I said, I’m over at his shop all the time” ( _ I thought it burned down  _ a small part of Sofia’s mind queried, but she rejected the thought because this seemed more important). “We eat dinner together every other night.”

Aziraphale apparently couldn’t help himself “But you’re afraid that I’ll fall too, isn’t that it?”

Crowley flinched as if he’d been hit.  _ Bingo _ thought Sofia. She wasn’t sure what exactly the angel was talking about, but it was clear that this was part of what kept the two apart. She leaned in.

“Aziraphale, what do you mean by that?” she asked, pointedly ignoring Crowley’s spluttering is if he had choked on a drink, only he hadn’t been drinking anything. 

“He’s afraid that if he gets to close to me, that he’ll corrupt me and that I’ll be a fallen angel too. Isn’t that right Crowley?” he asked the demon, almost in an accusatory tone. 

Crowley had grown silent, he kept his yellow eyes fixed on his slender hands where they lay laced together in his lap. 

“Isn’t that it Crowley?” asked Aziraphale, a note of desperation to his voice. 

“Crowley?” Sofia didn’t want to gang up on the demon, but she knew sometimes in sessions like these, people needed a bit of a push..”Is this true? Are you afraid getting close to Aziraphale will hurt him?”

Crowley’s voice was very soft and gentle when he spoke next. So much that Sofia needed to strain to hear him 

“I couldn’t bare it if that happened to him” he muttered into his chest, eyes still cast down. “I couldn’t bare it”. 

She heard Aziraphale let out a long breath, as if he’d been holding it, and realized that she was doing the same thing. 

Suddenly, everything got a lot clearer for Sofia. This was why they’d never gotten together! Because the one was terrified of harming the other. She’d seen this in her human clients ( _ human clients? _ Her mind wondered briefly at the sudden distinction), where one felt unworthy or toxic to the other in some way. This could be true and the match could be an ill advised one, or it could be a simple miscommunication or a self esteem issue that could actually be resolved. She wasn’t sure about what was happening here though. Only that there was a solid reason why these two creatures, so clearly crazy about one another had kept a distance between them for… what had Crowley said? 6,000 years? Her mind tried to comprehend the enormity of that amount of time as it related to a personal relationship and quickly gave up. 

Instead, she turned her attention back to the demon “Crowley,” she began. “I think it would be helpful if you said that directly to Aziraphale. It would make it more real and easier to confront, rather than stating it in the third person”

Crowley looked like he wanted to crawl into a very deep, very dark hole, but instead he took a deep breath and turned to fix Aziraphale with a steady gaze. Sofia was aware of how difficult and uncomfortable this must be for him, and felt a warm flush of compassion and respect for the demon. Vulnerability was a very painful thing to navigate.

“Angel” Crowley began, and Aziraphale, hands clutched nervously at chest height, eyes searching Crowley’s face, waited anxiously to hear his next words. Sofia was aware that she was holding her breath again. 

“Angel” he repeated, cleared his throat, licked his lips nervously. “I… I couldn’t bare it if being close to you caused you to fall. I’d never forgive myself.”

“Oh Crowley!” Aziraphale exclaimed with a strange mix of relief and apprehension. “That won’t happen my dear boy.” He stood up hesitantly. So did Crowley, and now they were facing one another, looking intently at each other. The air was suddenly charged with a sort of electric crackle. 

“You know what?” remarked Sofia. “I’ve just now forgotten that I left some papers in the other room that I need for my next client.. And since our session is almost up, I hope you won’t mind if I go look for them” As she said this, she was making her way swiftly to the door. She knew when she was being a third wheel. The two continued standing, staring at one another as if she hadn’t spoken. She swiftly left and pulled the door shut behind her. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale and Crowley talk it out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp, This story is apparently taking longer to tell than I'd originally planned. I blame these hopeless idiots. They are just too much fun to write. I have a problem.

They stood, staring at each other. Aziraphale felt frozen in place. 

“I like her” Crowley said into the electric air between them, which took Aziraphale by surprise. 

He stammered a bit “Y - Yes! I like her very much. I’m glad you do too. She, well, she’s really helped me get all of this.. Into perspective as it were”. He couldn’t take his eyes off of Crowley’s face, searching for clues to how the demon felt in the minute movements of cheek and mouth and tracking every slight twitch of yellow eye. 

“Yeah. She’s got a good head on her shoulders” he grinned a lopsided grin. “Shame we can’t let her remember any of this”.

“You know” Aziraphale was still a little unsettled at the unpredictable turn the conversation had taken. He’d pictured Crowley being angry. Crowley telling him he should mind his own business about his nightmares… Crowley falling into his arms in a flurry of passion maybe? “I wouldn’t  _ have to _ make her forget” he continued cautiously. “We  _ could _ simply help her through it, and she could just be our therapist. It worked with Newt and Anathema and the Them didn’t it? And the Youngs? Humans are incredibly mentally flexible sometimes.”

“Possibly” mused Crowley, but he looked a little worried. “Perhaps if we slowly let the miracle you worked on her wear off while we were still here… and you maybe hit her with that love thing you do.. Where you make humans feel all warm and gooey inside, like a caramel. That could maybe work?”

“I think its worth a try” Aziraphale said, a wistful smile painting his angelic features. “It would be lovely to have someone nearby to… well… to talk things over with, don’t you think?”

“Yeah angel. That would be nice” Crowley said softly, suddenly looking down at the floor in front of him. 

“About the nightmares” started Aziraphale. 

“I know, I know” said Crowley. “We’ve gone over that now haven’t we? I told you how I felt about that. Lets just drop it” He was clearly uncomfortable. Aziraphale knew now that the discussion about Dr. Sofia Murkowski was only part out of concern for her well being, though the concern had been there… he could tell. It was also partly yet another way to deflect the issue. To deflect Aziraphale’s feelings about him. Taking a deep breath, he took a small step towards Crowley, where the demon stood, a few feet away. 

Crowley took a small step further away, eyes still cast down. “Don’t” he said. “Just don’t”. 

“Don’t  _ what?? _ ” cried Aziraphale, frustrated at the demon’s utter unapproachability. “What are you so afraid of? Nothing will happen to me if you…...” he let his words hang in the air without finishing the sentence.  _ If you let me in. If you let me love you. _

“You don’t know that angel” Crowley’s voice was low and unreadable. “You have no way of knowing that.”

“Yes  _ I DO _ ” Aziraphale took a deep, calming breath so as not to start yelling. He figured Sofia was somewhere in the next room, and that yelling would bring her running probably. Angelic miracle or no, he’d done nothing to suppress her psychiatric training. She’d been extremely attentive in making sure to keep this session safe and productive. He realized how much in that moment he admired her patience and resolve as he looked at his stubborn, insufferable, obnoxious,  _ terrified _ demon. 

“Look Crowley” he continued bravely. “What exactly is it that you think is going to make me fall? We eat together all the time. We drink together every other night. We laugh together. We’re practically _ living together. _ We’ve conspired against our home offices. We’ve  _ swapped bodies  _ for Heaven’s sake! If I was going to fall from God’s Grace (he felt a stab of concern upon seeing Crowley flinch when he mentioned Her name), I’d surely have done that already.”

“There’s plenty of things we haven’t done yet angel” Crowley’s voice was quiet and sad and run through with a touch of fear. “Things you probably don’t think about at all, but that I think about all the time.”

Aziraphale felt his breath quicken. “I think about those things” he replied softly. “ _ All the time _ .. Just like you” he added, heart suddenly beating much faster in his chest. “I think about them virtually every waking minute.” He took another, tiny, hesitant step towards Crowley, who was staring at him with something like disbelief reflected in his bright yellow eyes. He was pleased when Crowley stayed put this time and didn’t step away. 

“You…. you do?” The demon queried. His voice suddenly small and meek. “All the time?”

“Yes darling” Aziraphale smiled warmly, trying to put Crowley at ease as he took another tiny step forward. “So often in fact that its sometimes difficult to concentrate properly when you’re around” he felt a helpless, nervous giggle burst from him, and he could feel his cheeks start to burn. 

“What do you… what do you think about?” Crowley stammered, and Aziraphale could hear the fear in his voice. The unspoken words  _ This is all a misunderstanding. It must be. I need you to say it.  _ All of that was clear in the spaces between those five simple words. 

“Well” began Aziraphale shakily, taking a deep breath to calm his nerves. His knees were starting to feel weak and it was suddenly a bit too warm in Sofia’s office. He stepped forward one more time, which put him quite close to Crowley and hesitantly brought up a hand to place it warmly on Crowley’s upper arm. To his endless relief, Crowley didn’t pull away. “I think about… touching you. Quite a lot actually. Touching you, and… well... “ he gulped “Kissing you? Maybe a little? Like every five minutes.”

“You do?” Crowley’s voice was rough now, and Aziraphale could see his chest rising and falling faster under the silk of his extremely clingy shirt. He saw Crowley’s pulse jump in the side of his long, lovely neck. He felt dizzy. 

“Yes dearest” he breathed, looking up into Crowley’s wide, hopeful eyes, “I do.” 

“I -” began Crowley. “I-... yes. That’s... pretty much what I was… erm... referring to” he said haltingly, his voice breaking a little. His eyes were roaming about Aziraphale’s face, large and darker than usual as the slits of his pupils were blown wide. “If we do …. Those things… then for sure that will be the last straw. They’ll punish you. They’ll…”

He couldn’t finish because Aziraphale had leaned in and kissed him. Just a swift and gentle kiss, but the angel could feel an explosion of warmth deep inside him as his lips made contact with the demon’s sensual mouth. He pulled back quickly and looked into a pair of yellow and black eyes that were suffused with surprise and awe. Crowley’s mouth was hanging open a bit. He looked drugged. 

“There” he said with a prim efficiency he didn’t feel at all. “I kissed you, and the world didn’t end…. Again” he added as an afterthought. 

He barely had time to get the words out before his arms were suddenly very full of demon. Crowley’s arms were wrapped tightly around his middle, Crowley’s long, lithe body pressed up against Aziraphale, and the angel was subjected to an onslaught of kisses. Crowley’s soft mouth was kissing his mouth, his nose, his mouth again, his forehead, trailing kisses over his cheek and kissing his ear. Then, he simply embraced Aziraphale, burying his face in Aziraphale’s neck and tightening his grip around Aziraphale’s waist. The angel felt the demon give a deep, shuddering sigh. He let his own arms wrap around Crowley’s neck and drove his hungry, questing fingers up into the demons incredibly soft hair. “Oh my” he breathed, heart bursting with joy. “Oh my dearest dearest love”. He let the feel of Crowley’s body so close to him, of Crowley’s smell, of ancient forests and black coffee and expensive cologne envelop his senses. 

Eventually, Crowley pulled back just far enough to look at Aziraphale, and he was surprised to see tears welling up in the demon’s eyes. “How can we be sure?” Crowley asked in a voice, suffused with emotion. “How can we know for sure”.

Without saying a word, Aziraphale gently disengaged from Crowley’s embrace and took a step back. He unfurled his wings and spread them wide for Crowley’s inspection. Still pristine and untainted, he enfolded both of them in shining white feathers. He could see Crowley’s eyes flicker over his wings swiftly, looking for dark patches.. For signs that his touch had corrupted Aziraphale. He felt a strong surge of love and compassion for his demon. His demon that cared so deeply for him that he’d suppressed his feelings for so many long years. He stepped forward, gathering Crowley back into his arms and kissed him again. This time in earnest. 

It was a long kiss, and deep one. Crowley’s soft mouth opened immediately and their tongues got acquainted in ways that took Aziraphale’s breath away. He wrapped his arms around Crowley’s narrow shoulders and pulled the demon against him, as he felt Crowley’s arms snake their way back around his waist and hold him tight. Aziraphale felt fireworks going off inside him. Explosions of bright light inside his chest and stomach. He moaned softly into the demon’s deliciously warm, welcoming mouth and heard Crowley’s answering keen of yearning. 

They were both so lost in the delirium of one of their very first kisses in 6,000 years that neither of them heard the gentle knock on the door, or noticed when the door slowly swung inwards as Sofia Murkowski crept back into her office. 

_____________________________________________________________


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the final chapter! I am loving all the comments and kudos! It makes writing more a pleasure. Thank you everyone! :D

__________________________________________

She’d gone down to the lobby and bought herself a double shot mocha frappuccino to clear the fog in her head. She had the rest of the evening free, it was only 3:30, and her husband Albert didn’t expect her back until later. And she’d be damned if she was going to head home before her two clients got through this major breakthrough. She had to hand it to them, it took most people several sessions, sometimes weeks or months of work to get to where they’d gotten in a mere 45 minutes or so. But, she supposed, the whole situation had been boiling away for a long time. A  _ really long time _ . What was it? 6,000 years. Part of her brain rebelled at that detail.  _ Not possible _ a stray fragment of thought whispered through her conscious mind, born on the wings of strong caffeine. She found herself a nice spot on a bench in the lobby, by the waterfall and the plants that were tastefully arranged in front of the large glass doors of the office park building where she had her practice. 

She sipped the coffee, its hot, sweetness with a bitter undertone already helping to clear her head a bit. What a strange and interesting pair they were! Aziraphale… it was a lovely name, and she didn’t remember hearing it mentioned in all her years of catholic school. Her mother, a devout catholic, had tried to instill a love of Jesus in her only daughter, and to be fair, Sofia did love Jesus. In that she admired him as a historical figure and for what he stood for. Whether he’d actually existed? Or furthermore, whether he’d ever been resurrected… that was another matter. And her mother, while she’d sometimes mentioned angels in reference to biblical text, they just weren’t the main focus of her religious beliefs. They were mostly a side note. Her mother had been more focused on the different saints and on Jesus’s teachings themselves. 

She’d grown into more and more of an atheist as she’d grown older, and had watched loved ones die, in ways that felt cruel and unnecessary, from drug overdoses, from cancer. She had seen children starving on the news, had seen homeless people freezing on the streets in winter. As she’d felt her own very mortal and fallible self grow pessimistic and rational. This was why psychology held such a strong pull for her. God didn’t exist, at least she’d been sure of that before this afternoon. But the human mind, human emotions, human interpersonal relationships. Within the intricacies of human psychology lay puzzles far more fascinating than those scenarios made up by some terrified, ancient scribe, scribbling down delusions onto a piece of tree bark or a piece of old cloth in a cold stone hut, thousands of years ago. 

Except that now, everything had changed. God did exist apparently, and so did angels and demons. 

_ Angels... _

_ Demons…. _

Tendrils of caffeine were slowly working their way into her miracle dazzled brain and doing what they did best. Bringing back cold, stark reality. Slowly but surely, she felt incredulity leak back into her consciousness. 

Could Aziraphale  _ really _ be an angel? He certainly was a sweet man. A lovely man really. And angels were made of love weren’t they? Regardless… was she really gullible enough to believe a tale this  _ ridiculous _ ?

But then there were Crowley’s eyes. Yellow and black like a snake’s they’d been.. Hadn’t they? Or had her mind only made that up? She slowly became convinced that Crowley had those sort of golden eyes some people had. A golden hazel. A brown so light it looked amber. She’d dated a guy once with eyes like that. “Ale eyes” she’d called him. 

She took a few more sips of her frappuccino and decided it might be time to head back upstairs. Why had she left them alone in the first place? Oh yes. They’d needed a moment alone to… talk things out as it were. Even in her confused and uncertain state, she felt a flush of warmth over the idea that they’d eventually work out their feelings for each other.  _ How sweet _ . They really were a lovely couple. Even _ if  _ they  _ might be _ clinically insane. 

She brusquely got up and headed for the elevator. 

_________________________________________

She’d softly knocked on the office door to alert the pair that she’d returned. When she didn’t get an answer, she’d pushed the door open and crept slowly inside, secretly praying that they hadn’t gotten carried away, that she wouldn’t find them half naked and on top of each other. She even remembered chuckling impishly to herself at the thought. Sure it would be embarrassing for everyone involved, and insanely unprofessional of them, but…  _ how cute would that be?  _

She took a quick moment, as she slowly pushed the door all the way open to wonder when she’d reverted to being a teenage girl.

What she saw in her office was something entirely unexpected. 

Wings. 

_ wings _

WINGS!

Large, snow white, beautiful, brilliant _ wings _ , massive and insane and breathtaking. After a shocked half-second, she realized that they must be Aziraphale’s, and that they were partially wrapped around he and Crowley, as if sheltering them both. Her heart skipped several beats and she sucked in an involuntary gasp of breath. The pair seemed completely oblivious to her presence. After a couple of seconds, her shocked brain pieced together what she was actually looking at. The two men stood, with Aziraphale’s insanely beautiful wings, half curved around them, locked in a lover’s embrace. They were kissing, madly, passionately, partly obscured by shimmering white feathers. 

_ Oh my god  _ she thought.  _ Oh my GOD. OH HOLY SHIT WHAT THE FUCK???  _

She felt the door close behind her and felt her body fall back against it with a loud thump. This finally alerted the pair to her presence. They broke apart, jumping guiltily as if caught doing something they shouldn’t have. She saw Aziraphale swiftly fold his wings away behind him somewhere, saw the concerned look on his lovely face, now flushed with the passion of recent kisses, saw him reach out towards her with a soft cry.

Then the world went dark. 

______________________________________

She woke up on the floor. Lying flat on her back with Aziraphale’s very concerned face hovering over her. He’d grasped her hand in his and she felt him give it a little squeeze. 

“I think she’s come back around” he said, and she heard Crowley grunt from where he must have been standing, somewhere out of her line of vision. 

Aziraphale quickly turned his gaze back to her, eyes crinkling with worry. “Don’t worry Sofia dear” he said, voice fretful, “I caught you before you could fall. You weren’t hurt”.

“What?” she stammered “What’s going on?” Not articulate maybe, but it was all she could manage at the moment. “You…” she said, her eyes searching Aziraphale’s worried face, “You… you have wings”

“Yes dear” admitted Aziraphale sheepishly. “I rather suppose I do”.

Sofia struggled to her feet with Aziraphale’s help and he escorted her to one of the client armchairs in front of her desk. They’d laid her out behind them on the carpeted floor. She sank gratefully into the soft cushions, absently thanking him. 

“Sofia dear,” Azirapahel started, kneeling down by her chair, he kept her hand in his and stroked it gently with his other hand. It was very soft and very reassuring. Sofia could feel her heart beat, rapid when she’d awoken, now slowing down to something approaching normal speed.

“Give her a minute” she heard Crowley’s voice from somewhere behind the chair. Strangely, his off handed cynical, tone helped her regain some semblance of calm. He sounded so very  _ normal _ . As if he hadn’t just been passionately snogging an angel with gigantic white wings. She glanced up and saw the demon (demon?), his dark glasses back in place, step up behind Aziraphale and place a warning hand on Aziraphale’s shoulder. She saw his hand give Aziraphale’s shoulder a gentle squeeze. 

“Ok” she stated, struggling to retain some of sense of rationality. “You weren’t lying after all”

“No..” responded Aziraphale, with a strange tone to his voice “we weren’t”

“She’s had coffee” remarked Crowley. “I can smell it on her breath angel”

_ Coffee? Why should that matter? _ Sofia thought hazily, running a hand through her hair and taking a deep, calming breath.

“Oh bother” responded Aziraphal, looking up at Crowley from where he still knelt at her side. “She has hasn’t she”

Latching onto this new, reassuringly mundane detail, Sofia piped up

“Why should it matter that I’ve had coffee?”

“Well my dear” began Aziraphale uncertainly, returning large, fretful eyes to her face. “The caffeine has been known to… clear one’s head a bit when one has been under the influence of say… miraculous powers?”

_ Miraculous powers?  _ “Oh” she responded numbly, as if she understood, when really she didn’t at all. 

Crowly came around and sat himself down in the chair next to her, but Aziraphale, sweet, supportive Aziraphale remained kneeling at her side, her slightly trembling hand still clasped in his soft, warm one. It was wonderfully reassuring. She felt calmer, and her heartbeat slowed further. 

“How are you feeling Sofia dear?” Asked Aziraphlae, still worried. 

“Better” she replied truthfully. “I have to admit, seeing your… wings…. Well, it threw me for a loop.”   
  


“Well of course it did!” Aziraphale exclaimed reassuringly. “Of course it did. How could it not? I am so, so very sorry. I shouldn’t have done that… brought them out as it were. It was just that I got a little…. Er… carried away there.”

“You sure did angel” Crowley interjected unhelpfully, with a teasing drawl to his voice. Sofia saw Aziraphale shoot him a disapproving glance, but one that was underscored with a flirtatious flutter of his lashes. She couldn’t help herself and felt her face break into a huge, bright smile.

“That’s right!” She exclaimed, momentarily losing her barely attained composure. “You were kissing! I almost forgot, what with the wings and all.” She beamed at the suddenly blushing Aziraphale at her side and brought her other hand over to rest on top of the one he was using to reassuring stroke hers. “How lovely” she whispered to him, her nose crinkling in delight. Then, suddenly, the reality of the situation reasserted itself and she gasped, bringing a shocked hand up to cover her mouth “Oh, I’m sorry! That’s not my place to say that!”

“Don’t worry” Crowley stated matter of factly. “I don’t mind.” He was grinning a lopsided grin. 

“Oh my. Where is my head?” Sofia pulled her hand gingerly from Aziraphale’s and got shakily to her feet. He hovered anxiously nearby in case she took another tumble. She walked unsteadily around the desk to settle herself behind it in the therapist’s chair where she belonged and took a deep breath.  _ What next? _ She thought.  _ What does one do when one’s clients are an angel and a demon? _

A sudden thought hit her and she looked expectantly at Crowley. “Do you have wings too?” 

He nodded, grinning a little. 

“Oh! Can I see them?” When had she turned into a 10 year old girl? This whole situation made her feel giddy and childlike. She was afterall, suddenly inside a fairytale, like the ones she read as a child. 

“Sure” He remarked casually, but Aziraphale, who’d stepped over to stand next to him, put a warning hand on his arm 

“I think one set of wings is enough for today, don’t you darling?”

Crowley shrugged, but looked disappointed. “You’re no fun” he mumbled amiably, bringing his hand up to rest warmly on Aziraphale’s where it sat on his arm. 

“I suppose I’m not” Aziraphale grinned up at him. The two seemed lost in each other’s eyes and Sofia felt suddenly invisible, in a not unpleasant way.  _ Oh how lovely  _ she thought. 

She gently cleared her throat and both men turned their gazes to her simultaneously. “Um…” she prompted.

“Sofia!” Exclaimed Aziraphale, pulling away from Crowley, a touch guiltily, as if suddenly remembering that she existed. He came back to his seat in front of her desk and sat down, leaned forward with his hands on his knees, “I owe you an apology. I am so very sorry for having pulled you into this without getting your permission. I was selfish, and scared for Crowley. And I just needed someone to talk to who wouldn’t, well, who wouldn’t try to discorporate me or wouldn’t run away screaming.”

“Pulled me into this?” She repeated vaguely. “Whatever do you mean?”

“Oh dear” muttered Aziraphale fretfully. “Well, you see, when Crowley refused to keep up the story we’d decided upon” He shot a disapproving look at Crowley where he’d also taken his rightful seat next to the angel. “I sort of, um…. How do I put this… cast a bit of a spell over you, so you… wouldn’t … what do the young people say these days?  _ Go mental? _ ” From of the corner of her eye, Sofia saw Crowley roll his eyes at the angel’s gentile pronunciation of common, modern vernacular. “I don’t expect you to ever forgive us for that” Aziraphale continued, looking downtrodden and sheepish. “It’s just that Crowley has been suffering so, and I was so confused, and we really have no one to talk to.. And he wouldn’t have opened up if he’d had to keep calling me ‘Zira’ and pretending to have horrible in laws, instead of a pack of nasty demons and…” he’d started to babble. 

Sofia reached over and pressed a reassuring hand against the cuff of his cream colored, old fashioned jacket. “It’s OK.” She said warmly. “Really it is. I’m not sure you could have asked me in a way that wouldn’t have me ‘going mental’ as you say. It wasn’t a choice I could have made in that moment, and the fact that talking with me helped the both of you resolve some things..” she shot a sly look at Crowley who winked at her in response.. “Well, it was worth it as far as I’m concerned”. Aziraphale visibly relaxed and let out a deep sigh. 

“Although” she continued. “I feel compelled to warn you that it’s not a great idea to cast spells with too many humans. At least not for the purposes of obtaining therapy. It could backfire”

“Yes angel” piped up Crowley with a mischievous smile on his face. “Don’t go influencing people to do your bidding. That’s not very angelic” His grin held a glint of irony who’s origin escaped Sofia. Aziraphale leveled a warning glance in his direction, but the demon’s smile only grew broader. 

“So, you forgive us?” Queried Aziraphale, the worried look returning to his large, blue-green eyes as he looked back at her. 

“Of course I do. There's really nothing to forgive” replied Sofia, and felt her breath catch in her chest a little as Aziraphale’s face broke into possibly the most beautiful smile she’d ever seen.  _ That smile could charm the chrome off a bumper at 50 paces  _ she thought, borrowing a well used phrase from her husband. Albert Murkowski, the son of a pair of very clever and very articulate Polish Jews from Brooklyn NY, by way of Ellis Island, was a font of quirky sayings. She felt a sudden blush of love for her husband and resolved to give him some extra kisses when she got home later. Something about Aziraphale made her love everyone and everything a bit more. 

“So” Aziraphale began, intruding on her brief reverie. “We can come back and talk to you some more?” 

“Yes, of course” she replied, smiling back at him. “I’d be a liar if I didn’t say I need a little time to process all of this. But I’m nothing if not flexible. I would be an utter fool not to take on an angel and a demon as clients.” She felt giddy. She’d been given a once in a lifetime chance to have a truly unique experience. A once in a millennia’s chance really. How could she say no? She was already half in love with both of them, with Aziraphale’s sweetness and Crowley’s cynical sense of humor. 

“When are you free for your next session?” she asked, her smile growing even broader and brighter. 

  
  


_______________________________________________________

After they’d settled on a date for their next session, they’d bid Dr. Sofia Murkowski a fond farewell and headed out to the parking lot, where Crowley’s Bentley was pulled across four different spaces. Two parking tickets fluttered from the windshield wipers, but they burst into flames as the pair approached the car. 

“I’m so glad that went well!” exclaimed Aziraphale happily. “She is a very special person isn’t she?”

“Yeah angel. She is. One of a kind” Crowley remarked fondly. "Did you hit her with your love.... thingy?" He asked

"No" replied Aziraphale. 'Not more than usual anyway. Humans tend to like me in general, but no, I thought we should just let her be to make her own decisions going forward". Crowley nodded in agreement. 

They reached the Bentley and stopped for a moment before getting in. Aziraphale turned to Crowley and took both of his hands in his own. “Crowley darling. I meant what I said back there” he raised a tentative hand and gently removed Crowley’s dark glasses. The parking lot was deserted at this late hour, with no one around to witness the demon’s yellow eyes except Aziraphale, who gazed into them earnestly. “I’ll be fine. Even if we.. “ he grew suddenly a little bashful “.. get closer. I won’t fall. Nothing will change. I promise you.”

“I hope you’re right angel” Crowley replied softly, stepping closer and bringing a hand that trembled just a little bit up to place it gently against Aziraphale’s cheek. “Because if you did. If  _ anything bad _ were to happen to you, I’d tear down Heaven and rip Hell to pieces with my bare hands to make it right again.” His gaze was fierce as he leaned down and kissed Aziraphale with heated purpose, pulling the angel close in a tight embrace that took Aziraphale’s breath away in a rush. 

When they parted, a few moments later, both breathless and flushed, Aziraphale had to lean back against the Bentley for a minute to regain his composure. He fixed Crowley with a look that wasn’t at all befitting of one of God’s angels and said in a voice thick with passion “Take me home Crowley.  _ Now _ ”

Crowley leaned in for another quick kiss, then he veritably jumped to the driver’s side of the car as Aziraphale hurried to climb into the passenger seat. The Bentley squealed out of the parking lot and out onto the busy street. Inside it, an angel, flustered with more than just fear over a demon’s questionable driving, reached over and clasped the demon’s hand in his own and gave it a tight squeeze. 


End file.
